


Say Something

by TellMyLegacy



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Drabble, Hospitals, I'm Sorry, Lams - Freeform, M/M, it's quiet uptown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 08:35:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7260316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellMyLegacy/pseuds/TellMyLegacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Words are perhaps one of the most dangerous, yet underrated weapons in the world. However, words are also a beautiful piece of art.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He fell so helplessly in love with Alexander. Since then, it had always been the two against the world. Together, they healed the wounds of the past, they faced the obstacles of the present, and they prepared for the future to come. John’s life had been mere prose before, an unlit candle. Alexander slowly entered his life with a flame, and wrote a beautiful narrative, where both him and John became the one’s who tell the story of yesterday, and tonight, and tomorrow.</p>
<p>It was perfect.</p>
<p>Then a horrible villain came to the story, and completely changed the plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say Something

Words are perhaps one of the most dangerous, yet underrated weapons. A man can fatally wound another man with a sword, but a simple stroke of a pen can entirely destroy a man’s will to live.

Words are also a beautiful piece of art. John Laurens knew from experience that one can fall in love with the mere complexion of the alphabet, carefully crafted into memorable tunes, elegant poems, unforgettable paragraphs that often rendered people breathless.

Alexander Hamilton was a man of many words. The young writer had successfully written his way out of poverty. He wrote his way to freedom, and he wrote his way to love. John Laurens was the victim of the declarations.

He had fallen in love with the wonderful fantasies that Alexander created just for the two of them. He fell in love with the daily hymns, the raw odes, the perfect poems. He fell in love with his words, but more importantly, he fell in love with the author, the poet, the writer. He fell so helplessly in love with Alexander.

The two started dating during New Year’s Eve, and just thinking about the wonderful memory brought a soft, genuine smile to John’s lips.

Since then, it had always been the two against the world. Together, they healed the wounds of the past, they faced the obstacles of the present, and they prepared for the future to come. John’s life had been mere prose before, an unlit candle. Alexander slowly entered his life with a flame, and wrote a beautiful narrative, where both him and John became the one’s who tell the story of yesterday, and tonight, and tomorrow.

It was perfect.

Then a horrible villain came to the story, and completely changed the plot.

And so now, John sits next to Alexander, his curly mass of hair lying on his boyfriend’s chest, rising and falling slowly to the steady rhythm of his breathing.

The beeping of the machines next to the bed were only a background noise as John tried to listen to Alex, to any small sound, to any small movement he might make. The only sound he heard was his beating heart, and it was enough. But John wanted more. He _needed_ more.

Many had told him to just give up already, that nothing could bring Alex back, but John refused to believe them. Alexander was a fighter, that much was a fact. And John knew that Alex would do whatever it takes to be by John's side again and finish the story they wrote together.

You see, exactly two years ago, Alexander Hamilton was one of the many unfortunate victims of a mass shooting during a protest for equality. He had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. A plot twist to the story.

_It was a fatal wound,_ the doctors had said. The bullet had gone straight through his spinal cord, and John was witness to the calamity that rendered his lover speechless. Since that hideous tragedy, Alex has been in a coma.

Slowly, all of their friends started visiting less and less, opening Pandora’s box more and more. Lafayette, Hercules, even the passive Aaron, started losing hope. The ever bright Schuyler’s and John were the only ones who still held Alex’s hands under the gleaming moonlight, and whispered new poems and endless symphonies on his ear.

Then, Peggy was diagnosed with a mortal disease, and the Schuyler sisters had to move uptown to look for better medical care.

Eliza still called John to check up on Alex, it used to be everyday. However, as Peggy got worst and worst, the calls turned to weekly texts, and the texts faded and faded until she rarely talked to John anymore.

He was the only one who stayed by Alexander's side.

And right now, John Laurens laid in the chest of his lover, his beautiful Alexander Hamilton, holding back tears as he whispered countless of melodies about his undying love for Alex.

“My love for you is like a sonnet,” John whispered in his ear, his hand clutching the Alexander’s limp, calloused hand, “Though it might come to an end someday, when death decides it to be abolished, at least it existed and became our dossier. That will always be enough.”

Everyone had already given up. Everyone but John.

Spring turned to Fall, and Winter turned to Summer. Another year had passed, and John began hesitating.

The doctors told him that it was perhaps time to let Alex's soul go instead of making him suffer any longer, but John was selfish. He wanted to listen endlessly to the lullabies of Alexander's heartbeat and soft breaths. He wanted to whisper his love to Alexander. He wanted Alexander to live.

One chilly night, John broke. 

“Say something,” he muttered into Alex's pale lips, tenderly ghosting over the skin he knew like his own. “Say something, please.”

He received no response.

Then, John hugged Alexander's frail frame close to his chest, loud sobs racking through his body like a painful earthquake, destroying his heart piece by piece.

“I'm giving up on you.” John whispered feverishly, shaking as he held Alexander. “Say something.”

He received no response.

 

 

John Laurens stared into the night sky the next day, his eyes numbly scanning the weeping stars as he simply listened to his surroundings.

It was quiet.

There was no more soft breathing, no more constant beating, no more whispered declarations, no more melodies.

The world seemed like a dull poem without Alexander, only this time, John was the poet, and he couldn't help but erase himself from the narrative. 

A poem without Alexander was not a poem. And yet, John did not have the courage to pick up a pen and write another.

So for now, he’ll watch the movie play out. He’ll listen to the musical. He’ll embrace the art.

After all, this is only the story of tonight. Tomorrow there’ll be more of us, and John knows that it won’t be long before the curtains close, and the play comes to an end.

**Author's Note:**

> ~If you're confused by the ending, let me explain. When it says "A poem without Alexander was not a poem. And yet, John did not have the courage to pick up a pen and write another" this really means that John contemplated suicide, which is similar to how 'life without Alex was not a life worth living'. Also, when it says "pick up a pen and write another," this really means that even though John will not end his life, he will not start a new one either. He'll stay in the moment where Alexander was with him, and he'll wait until the "play comes to an end" and he gets to see Alexander again.
> 
> ~Also, pardon my try at a romantic poem. 
> 
> ~The title and some of the dialogue are inspired by "Say Something" from A Great Big World.
> 
> ~Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading!! 
> 
>  
> 
> (Inspired by Lin Manuel Miranda's Broadway Musical "Hamilton." Also, inspired by song "Say Something" by A Great Big World.)


End file.
